


Varric's Yarn

by Whenever_the_Fancy_Takes_Me



Series: What to Do in the Event of a Body Snatcher [4]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5342525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whenever_the_Fancy_Takes_Me/pseuds/Whenever_the_Fancy_Takes_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric has the schemes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Varric's Yarn

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read Anders Has the Feels, TURN BACK NOW! These pieces go in chronological order. If you don't care about knowing what's going on however, feel free to keep reading. Just know that we're all silently judging your story-line-skippingness.... *theatrically spooky voice* you have been warned!

“Well, well, well, look at you two, the picture of perfect domestic bliss. The angsty, broody, and morbidly unsocial former slave, and the gorgeous, skilled, and borderline homicidal mercenary. Pretty as a picture.” Varric leaned against the doorway, basking in the waves of deadly intent emanating from Fenris who was, at the moment, sitting next to Hawke in her bed, an open book on his lap.

Hawke laughed, “Varric, you insatiable flirt! How does Bianca put up with your roaming eye?”

“Bianca knows she’s the only one for me.” Verric winked, earning yet another violent glower from the elf, “Anyway, I came by to see how you were doing. I shouldn’t have worried, you have the best mother hen you can steal from the coop already here.”

Fenris moved as if he was going to get up and give the dwarf a hand exiting the building, but Hawke simply put a hand on his knee and, to Varric’s surprise, Fenris only growled under his breath and leaned back again, slipping his hand around her waist. Varric hadn’t believed Merril when she’d told him, but here it was, proof of her dreamy-eyed account of true love. The possessiveness with which Fenris was holding their fearless leader clearly spoke of a feeling that went beyond mere loyalty.

Varric cocked one brow, this would definitely add a certain fairy-tale charm to the story when he told it later.

* * *

 “Yes, fairy-tale charm and lies!” The Seeker loomed above him threateningly, “We all know that the Champion was at her most destructive and yet you claim she was holed up in her room this entire time, teaching the elf to read? It’s because of what she did in those two months that everything happened the way it did, and still you expect me to believe she had nothing to do with it?”

Varric leaned back in the uncomfortable stone chair, threading his fingers together and waiting for the Seeker to finish her rant. When she stopped for a breath, he shrugged, “Believe what you will, but Hawke was bedridden, she could barely stand without Fenris’ help. However, Anders certainly had enough free time on his hands, and magic enough to make mischief with.”

The Seeker pulled up short, “The Apostate? Eye-witness accounts put the Champion at the scene, not him.”

“Eye-witnesses get things wrong a lot,” Varric smiled, taking a moment to appreciate the skill with which he was drawing even the Seeker of the Chantry into his tale, “and you’re forgetting that Anders’ had put Hawke back together so many times that he certainly knew how she looked and moved. Well enough to create a passable illusion anyway.”

He shook his head, “He had a rather unhealthy obsession with her.”

“So once again you’re going to blame the Apostate.” The Seeker snarled threateningly, but her interest was piqued, just like Varric knew it would be. “What proof do you have that Anders was even involved?”

Varric only smiled, “I’m here to tell you aren’t I?”

* * *

 Hawke chuckled and squeezed in closer to Fenris, “Why thank you for your concern my friend, but you must have more to do here than just check up on me. Are you here to do research for your novels?” She tapped her finger on her chin, “Which one are you on this time?”

“The Princess and the Crossbow.” Varric glanced at the book on Fenris’ lap with a grin, “I hope you’re taking full advantage of the more illustrated pieces of advice in my books. Our Mischievous Chief of Mischief is a difficult woman to please and you’ll need all the help you can get.”

“Oh no, no, no Varric, if anything, he could give _you_ some interesting tips!” Hawke sighed dramatically, “Sweet Maker, the things this man can do with his-

“Hawke…” Fenris said dangerously.

Hawke only giggled and winked. “Seriously,” she whispered loudly, “you’ll want to come see me later. So will Isabella probably…”

Fenris suddenly pinched her and Hawke let out a rather undignified squawk and smacked his shoulder. Varric laughed, Fenris definitely was not equipped to handle a woman like Hawke. Although it probably didn’t take much to make her happy, just a couple of hearts ripped out of their owners and she would be fit to swoon. He shook his head, what a dangerous pair they made.

“Actually,” Varric sat down in a chair near the bed and leaned his elbows against his knees, “while I did come by to check on you, I also came by to see if you’ve been up to anything… _extracurricular_.”

Hawke smirked suggestively, “How extracurricular are we talking about here?”

Varric leaned back, chuckling at the look of suffering that strained Fenris’ usually gloomy features. “Oh you know, slaughtering the odd band of Templars this past week. Maybe rescuing a convicted malificar or two?”

“Why no officer! I’ve just been here in bed resting… sometimes…”

“HAWKE.”

“Hmmm,” Varric’s usually constant humor left his voice, he needed Hawke to be serious now. While he doubted that she was lying, he needed to know for certain that there was no way she was involved, “That is a problem, seeing as how my sources tell me that several eye-witnesses named you as the perpetrator. Several Templar patrols have run into bands of blood mages roaming the country side and word on the street is that you’re aiding them.”

“It seems I’ve been busy for an invalid.” Hawke sighed and moved to push the blankets from her legs. Fenris turned to help her untangle her legs from the bedding and she swung her feet over the side and grinned tiredly, “Being sick has its downsides.”

She took a deep breath and pushed herself up from the bed. She wobbled dangerously, her face turning an alarming shade of green, and she clutched the bed post next to her to keep her balance. “There,” she said with a groan, “I’m ready to take on a whole squadron of Templars with my bare hands.”

Hawke squinted as if the light was bothering her, her expression queasy, “Just point me at them and give me a minute to aim. I’m sure I can vomit blue all over them from a safe distance.”

“Alright, alright, alright!” Varric jumped from the chair as Hawke swayed dangerously, “I believe you.”

Fenris eyed him angrily and gently pulled Hawke back into the bed and tucked her in. She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, “I can barely stand without help. Whoever you’re looking for Varric, it isn’t me. And as much as I like a good fight, I’m not so desperate for one that I would have dealings with blood mages to get it. My sister would have my hide for that.”

“She isn’t the only one.” Fenris muttered.

Hawke waved her hand lazily, her lips quirked in the barest of smiles, “You already have my hide you greedy thing.”

Fenris only sighed.

Varric sat back down with a frown, “Well then we have a problem. Someone is using your illustrious image to wreak havoc. Even the Circle is nervous about these blood mages and you’ve been put on Templar Commander Meredith’s shit-list.”

“And how is my bestie? Still a nug-sucking dictator with daddy issues?”

“She’d be better if your twin hadn’t killed so many of her men that she’s been forced to call in reinforcements from Nevarra.” Varric steepled his fingers in front of his face, “And word on the street has it that she’s put a price on your head. Every wannabe bounty hunter from here to Tevinter is going to be busting down your door to take a crack at you.”

“Then you can’t stay here.” Fenris shared a worried look with Hawke, who looked even more nauseous if that was possible. She nodded tiredly, “You’re right, I’m in no shape to fight off anyone.”

Hawke looked back at Varric, “But judging by the look on your face, I assume you have an idea to share.”

Varric leaned back with a smile. He did in fact have a plan. And the knowledge that the elf would hate it made it all the sweeter. “Well we’re going to need a boat…”


End file.
